


reflection

by gh0steses



Category: Skullgirls
Genre: F/F, sorry to be the typical Filias Dying guy i have no desire to bury these very good lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 02:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16507328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gh0steses/pseuds/gh0steses
Summary: “I know you meant well and all, but is this really what you wanted? Kid’s scared out of her mind half the time cause people look at her weird.”





	reflection

**Author's Note:**

> boy this ain't good  
> i wrote this probably? a year and a half ago, told myself id actually write something before it, and wasn't happy with the result so it's just this i guess

“Mind losing the hat?”

“I do, actually.” It’s cold, and Filia doesn’t want to hear Samson complaining after she takes it off. Or deal with odd looks from the occasional passerby while she’s walking down the sidewalk, talking to the back of her head as if that’s a thing that people do.

The parasite makes a low grumbling noise in annoyance, the vibrations from his deep voice making Filia’s skull shake in a way she’s long since used to by now, but it still makes her head feel weird. “You won’t if you like this hat. We need to talk. By the way, when was the last time you washed this thing? It reeks.”

Does he even have a nose? “What you’re smelling is your _breath_ ! My hat is fine,” she says, almost pouting. This hat _is_ her favorite, though… She removes it with a resigned sigh before Samson can eat it, letting him stretch and spit out bits of fluff that got in his mouth. Putting the fabric up to her nose, she confirms that it does not, in fact, smell of anything but fabric softener.

“Whatever. Anyway, kid, your wish might’ve been a waste.” Filia grits her teeth a little at the voice coming from the back of her head. She and Samson seldom argue, but Samson seems to sense her annoyance, appending an almost nervous “Hey, I’m just sayin’,” in an attempt to crawl out of the hole he realizes he’s slowly digging himself. He can only be so mean to his host.

“You’ve been ‘just saying’ that for a while.” And he has. Not often, but there has been a relentless, nagging feeling of Samson’s disapproval of her choice hanging over her. “I did what I felt was right.”

Samson scoffs, shrugs what could loosely be described as his shoulders. “And it’s a matter of time till you turn. We never got what we set out for, neither.” His tone slips easily back into derision. “Remember how we’re in this together? Start goin’ on your crazy Skullgirl rampage and we’re both toast.” His lightheartedness doesn’t last long, because he's more correct than either of them can be comfortable with. It's just a matter of time until they collectively become a supernatural being of mass destruction. Who knows what a Skullgirl with a parasite could do?

“I know that.” The Skull Heart seems to be dormant inside her for now; sometimes it sets her ribs ablaze with a flare of pain that she assumes is part of the transformation, then go back to doing nothing after a few minutes of agony. Over time, she's realized the radius is growing slowly wider with each attack, expanding out from where her heart no longer beats. It had called her wish for Carol to have a normal life again _almost_ selfless, so she figures if she'd wished for whatever she’d forgotten to return to her, it would be just about the most selfish thing she could do. If she had followed through with her original wish, she’d be a Skullgirl by now, out wreaking mindless havoc on New Meridian. “Didn’t you sign up for this in the first place? Wishing my memories back wouldn't have turned out better for her _or_ me.”

Samson is silent for a moment. He knew from the start there’d be no result of going after the Skull Heart where Filia _didn’t_ get corrupted by its power unless they were extremely, _absurdly_ lucky. He'd be a fool if he didn't. Even if he had his own personal agenda, he went in knowing this was a suicide mission. “...Alright. You got me on that one,” he says with a sigh, tresses flopping down lifelessly over Filia’s back. “I know you meant well and all, but is this _really_ what you wanted? Kid’s scared out of her mind half the time cause people look at her weird.”

Filia stops walking for a second. She isn’t quite sure. It was such a heat of the moment decision that she never really gave the words conscious thought before she yelled them and everything was done. “I want to help her all that I can,” she eventually replies, starting to walk again and grasping the straps of her backpack. “I don’t know what all happened to her, but you saw how she was before. Even if I don’t know what _I_ did to her in the past, I… want to try and fix it. It’s the least I could do to make it up to her.” Carol- then Painwheel, a name she revealed once over coffee one morning before school that she _hated_ , which Filia can't blame her for- was a perverse lab experiment gone rogue when they encountered her on their way to find the Skull Heart, and it wasn’t until she yelled Filia’s name that a sense of recognition struck her. Even as she pleaded for Filia to remember her, she couldn’t, but a sense of responsibility to help stuck with her. She’d been on Filia’s mind for the rest of the day and… what happened next is history. So what if she doesn't remember the Carol she knew; she doesn't mind getting to know this one at all. “It’s not like we could go back and change it, Samson. Sorry you got caught in the middle of all this.”

The first response she gets is from the zipper of her bag when Samson tanks it open and rummages through it, searching for the remnants of her lunch. Deep conversation does not and never will take priority over endless appetite. “Ah, don’t sweat it, kid. Like you said, I got myself into this mess. You cheatin’ your way into living longer is a plus, though,” he found the half of a turkey and cheese sandwich she saved for him by now, and talking with his mouth full isn’t something he’s above. “Tearin’ cities down with skeleton soldiers n’ pillars of fire is great and all, but this’ll do for now.”

Filia can’t help laughing a little at the absurdity of the situation, especially considering the weight of what they were just discussing. “While you’re in my bag, can you hand me my phone?”

“Gonna call your girlfriend?” A tendril slides over her shoulder with her phone in its clutch, screen unlocked and Carol’s number already pulled up.

“Oh, hush,” Filia huffs as she takes it, though in the back of her mind she’ll admit she wouldn’t mind calling Carol that. She sends Carol a text asking if she’d like to go walk around New Meridian this weekend, maybe get lunch somewhere nice, before handing her phone back to Samson. Her days might be numbered, but that won't stop her from enjoying her time with Carol while it lasts.


End file.
